A/N: At this point I would love to say-I'm ending it in the next chapter. I feel as if this story is coming to a close. I know I've pretty much put Mary on the back burner but she makes her appearance known in this chapter. Trust me.

Also I dislike the idea of a physical relationship. It's not how I would see it taking place.

Anyway. Read on.

Chapter 10

B Team

-JW

Mary stares at me, mouth agape, taking in my disheveled look and suitcase. "You...want to move in?"

"You're right," I begin, "I should probably go." I turn from her flat doorstep and move to catch a cab. Before I can raise my arm, however, I am stopped by Mary's hand on my shoulder.

"Look. You cought me off guard. Come in. Let's talk." I follow her inside and up the stairs to her flat. "What happened between you two?" At my confused features she gives me the look, "I'm not stupid. The only reason you'd need a place to stay is if Sherlock and yourself had a falling-out. Now, what happened?" I have to admit, she knows me almost as much as-

No, I cannot think of him. Not while I'm with Mary. "I told him...I told him I wanted to marry you. He grew angry." What was I doing, lying? Oh, she'd never find out though.

"I don't believe you, though." And at my baffled look she stands from her perch on the arm of her couch and begins pacing around the room. "Oh, you don't think I haven't seen it, John Hamish Watson? When you two are around each other, you're inseparable! I was warned by a previous flame of yours that Sherlock would be the end of our relationship, that I will always be plan B to him. And now I understand why."

"Why is that?" But I already know the answer.

"He's in love with you, John; and you are in love with him."

"I...I-," I can't say anything. I can't deny it because, as much as I hate those words, they are one hundred percent true. But Sherlock has no feelings; therefore, no feelings for me.

"You can stay here for a few nights, as needed," Mary begins, "but after that I would like for you to find other arrangements."

After she leaves and I have fixed a place for myself on the sofa, U drift softly into oblivion.

-SH

I've never felt anything-ever. My heart has always been stone. An impenetrable fortress that no man-or greater-could get through.

This is what everyone believed, because I let them. Because I wanted to believe it myself. However hard I try to believe, though, I still feel this presence, deep inside me. It haunts my dreams-at least when I sleep. I cannot escape it. I feel it tearing at every part of me.

I never wanted to feel because I never wanted to be distracted from important things. This feeling, this emotion, as strong as it is, actually helps my focus-these criminals, I've caught them from just being able to focus that tad bit more.

Ordinary people will say this emotion is lust, attraction, purely physical. John will argue for all his days that it is love. For all of my deductions, I can't help but believe him.

Anderson and Dinivan both believe John and I have been-ugh-shagging. That is absolutely absurd. John is straight. He always will be. Now, you don't need the world's only consulting detective to know that us an outright lie. Well, sort of. John is straight, as in he appreciates the female figure, their role. Sometimes he even gets off on it. Yes, John is straight.

But how is he in love with me? And how the bloody hell am I in love with him?

I jump when I hear a knocking on the front door of 221b. Why would anyone be here at three in the morning? Bloody hell, it's Mycroft isn't it? "Calm down, I'm-," I'm cut off when I open the door. John is there, looking just as uncomfortable as I feel. "Well, come on in then. No sense letting the cold in. It messes-."

"With your experiments, I know." He nonchalantly cuts me off and proceeds to shoulder his way past me up the stairs. As we enter the living area I notice he has not shaven since he left just two days ago. "Mary says I need leave. Says I need to sort things out with you. I agree. We have to talk."

"Yes, we have to speak of this...arrangement." We sit down on the couch.

"I love you."

"I know."

"Not in weird physical way."

"I'm aware."

"So..."

"So, yes, I feel the same."

"...I think I've known that for a while."

"So have I."

"This doesn't change-."

"No. Nothing will change."

"Right. Good. We are flatmates."

"Yes."

"Right."

I love this chapter for some reason. I am an odd cookie, I guess.

Mmmmm cookies.

Review, please! :)

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